


That Dog Don't Hunt

by rothalion



Category: Army Of Two (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rothalion/pseuds/rothalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rios takes Salem to Las Vegas to celebratae his thirtieth birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE

Note: A Stand alone, hopefully short bit about a happy time in Salem and Rios’ typically dreary lives. It’s Salem’s 30th. Birthday and Rios has planned a party. By my figuring they’d still be with SSC, somewhere around 2000-2001. The Kosovo mission from “Dirty Money takes place in 2001.

 

 

**_ That Dog Don’t Hunt _ **

__

_ Part One _

_ 2001: SSC Island Miami Florida _

 

            “Salem, Salem, damn it Salem.” Alice Murray finally hollered to shut the excited man up.

            “What Murray? What?” he squealed, his voice tinged with the high pitch edge it sometimes carried, when he was overly wound up.

            “You can’t leave for Vegas until you sign your new contract, Salem.” She scolded holding out a thick packet of paperwork toward him and shaking it. “Rios signed his a week ago. I’m going to be writing the Kosovo contract, while you two are away and I need this paperwork.”

            “Is it more money than last year? Is my getting killed Bene and the horribly mangled Bene the same? Is SSC still buying me cool weapons of mass destruction and sending my happy, skinny, little bitch ass, all over the planet to kill people I don’t even know?”

            Alice studied Salem across the small office. He sat, with his feet on a desk, re-reading the brochure for the fancy Las Vegas hotel Rios had booked them into, for a week, to celebrate Salem’s thirtieth birthday.

            “Elliot, you’re turning thirty in two days; grow up already! Read it, sign it and give it back, now.”

            Salem stood, crossed to the frustrated woman and snatched the packet from her hand.

            “This is not a contract. This is…it’s a book! It’s like fucking “War and Peace” for Salem. Every year it gets thicker and thicker. I don’t read this many fucking words in a year. Christ, it’ll take me a year to read this and it’s probably all just legal mumbo jumbo saving SSC’s ass, if I get wasted. Rios here, is it the same as yours, Bro?”

            “Salem no. I have other issues, no. Read it, sign it, we have a plane to catch.”

            “Rios, just check the pay and Benes and just say yes or no like you do every year.”

            He shoved the contract at the big man who thumbed through it checking certain particulars that would make or break Salem in the event of a serious situation.

            “Alice, Elliot has an alcohol clause?”

            “Dalton wanted it after the Peruvian debacle. I tried to talk him out of it.”

            “If Elliot’s drunk in another country, he forfeits all company backing. That’s pretty sketchy Alice; he’s not signing that.”

            “Did you see this, Tyse; this casino has fifty, count ‘em fifty Craps tables. They have three different swimming pools; one has a wave pool for surfing and an underwater tunnel.”

            “Salem, are you hearing this man, an alcohol clause.”

            “What?”

            “Get it removed, Murray. Get it removed or I’ll retract my contract. I still have twenty-seven days to withdraw it and I’m sure, some PMC somewhere, will pick us up and SSC will be left hanging for Kosovo.” He handed the packet back.

            “I’ll make a call but,”

            While Alice called Dalton, Rios walked over to Elliot and snatched the brochure from his hand.

            “Gimme that. You have stuff going on here, Elliot. An alcohol clause and they won’t put in writing that we won’t work with Clyde.”

            “Alcohol clause?”

            “Remember Peru, Manila, Spain? The drinking, the jails, well Dalton says no more. You get into shit because you’re drunk and you’ll be on your own. Says it’s for your own good.”

            “Yea, well fuck Dalton. I didn’t do any… debacle in Peru. She was a sweet girl. If I sign will that pertain; ah pertain see that’s a good word, to my Vegas birthday trip?”

            “You’re unbelievable.”

            “Ok boys, he said scratch it off, but Salem will be talking to a counselor regularly, when you guys get back from Kosovo.”

            “Hear that Salem, counselor.”

            “Fuck Dalton, he can try. Like we’re ever home long enough to show for an appointment anyway. Tell him to send the head quack out to me in the fuckin’ field. Gimme a pen. You sure the weapons clause is good, Tyse, a 15% increase like we talked about.”

            “Yes Elliot, 15% more money for Tac. Sign.”

Salem snatched the packet from Alice, scrawled his signature on all the noted lines, a total of eleven times, and tossed it on the woman’s desk. She picked it up, checked each and shook her head, just as she did every year at contract time.

            “Salem hon, who in god’s name taught you how to write in Cursive?”

             Snatching up his duffle bag, he bolted for the door. “I call window seat, Tyse! Ah Alice, I’m thinking I missed the cursive day at school; well most days at school, but hell, I turned out all right! Damn it Rios, get that fat ass moving man, you always make us late.”

            Alice rolled her eyes and watched Salem slam out of the office.

            “Adult Attention Deficit Disorder, Rios. I’m serious and he has the childhood trauma to back it. There are medications for this. I don’t know how you manage him.”

            Rios picked up his gear, shook his head and laughed.

            “Alice, you think this is bad? Try being stuck in a tiny hide with the crazy bastard for a week, just waiting. This… this is a cake walk.”

            “Have a good time and come home safe.”

_Note: Have to break this here, a few issues have reared their ugly heads so no more writing today. We’ll just have to see they get into in Vegas tomorrow._


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegas

 

 

 

**_ That Dog Don’t Hunt _ **

__

_ Part two _

_ Las Vegas _

__

            By the time they’d hit the hotel in Vegas Rios was ready to kill Salem. Not an entirely new event but none the less, aggravating. Rios had pretty much planned on Salem falling asleep within minutes after takeoff, but that hadn’t occurred. Instead, the excited man babbled incessantly about everything he wanted to do and see, once they got into the city. Finally, after an hour and a half, he began to settle and went to sleep, not against the window but against Tyson’s right shoulder. There was no way Rios was going to risk waking him, so he settled in for a long flight, locked in position, which also was not a new occurrence. Rios couldn’t count the number of times they’d returned from a mission with the younger man asleep against his chest or curled up, with his head in Tyson’s lap. Men scoffed and teased the pair for their closeness but the ridicule meant naught.

            The ride from the airport to the strip was a repeat of the plane ride, non- stop chatter to the point where Rios thought the cabby was going to pay him to get Salem out of his car. It was not until the pair stood facing the elevator that Salem finally shut up.

            “Dude,” Salem whispered, hesitating ten feet from the mirrored doors. “That bitch is on the _outside_ of the building.”

            “Yea, so.”

            “And we’re what, the forty-first floor? Ain’t no way I’m riding up the outside of a building, in a glass box for forty-one floors, Tyse.”

            Rios sighed and stepped away slightly, allowing the braver patrons to enter the elevator. The doors hissed shut and he grabbed Salem by the elbow and pulled him aside.

            “Elliot, if you think for one fucking minute, in that walnut sized brain of yours, that I am hiking up and down Forty-one flights of stairs for you, for a week, you are outta your mind. So when the next one gets here, we’re getting on even if I have to I’ll drag your skinny ass in.”

           Salem stared at Rios, looked back at the elevator noting that it was coming back down, looked toward the stairwell and back at Rios.

           “What are you more afraid of Elliot, me or the little glass box?”

            The bell rang, folks pushed by the pair and Elliot felt Rios dragging him along and into the machine. The big man jabbed number 41 and the car shot upwards at a brisk clip. Elliot squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself against the door. After four stops and picking up eight passengers he‘d been forced backwards towards the glass looking out over the strip. Rios looked at him and became worried, his cheeks had paled above the light stubble he wore and perspiration dappled his forehead.

           “Elliot, don’t you even think it, man.”

           Elliot looked at Rios pitifully and pressed his fingers into the acupressure spot on his wrist to prevent nausea. Finally they hit the forty-first floor and Salem all but sprinted for the door. Once in the hallway he leaned back against the wall gasping for air.

           “You’re an idiot. Let’s go.” Rios scolded, smacking him in the back of his head and tugging him toward their penthouse.

           Once inside Salem forgot the elevator and shifted back into little kid mode. He bounced on both huge beds before choosing one, raided the showers in both suites and the living area, smelling the shampoo, grabbed the remote and opened the hidden panel where the huge flat screen T.V. sat, before finally raiding the amply stocked wet bar. He poured himself and Rios stiff drinks, flopped back on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table and grinning wildly toasted their week of well- earned debauchery.

           “Where’d you learn that word, Kermit?” Rios teased, taking Salem’s glass and returning to the bar.

           “Ah see, you think I’m an idiot, Mr. Rios but low and behold, I have read _War and Peace_ , and I do have a vocabulary because of that excellent experience. Make it a double, good sir.”

           Tyson poured Salem a double Scotch, turned and walked back to him. He held at the glass and laughed a deep chested baritone laugh that he knew Salem loved. This was Salem’s week and Tyson was damned if anything was going to ruin it. But reading _War and Peace,_ Tyson couldn’t let that one go.

           “Yea, you read _War and Peace,_ Elliot? I remember that. You found that fucked up copy in that burned out school building in Grozny. We were hunkered down, hiding there for a week or so, waiting for extraction. You said you were gonna read it. But in the end, we used it for toilet paper. You read _War and Peace_.”

           “Shame on you Rios, for doubting your partner and brother. I’m off to change then we can hit the tables.”

           He chugged the rest of his Scotch, refilled at the bar and skipped off toward his suite. Just as he slipped into the ornately carved double doors he stopped and smiling back at Tyson raised his glass in a second toast.

            “To Tolstoy and his great and wonderful, big fat book.”

            Tyson paused mid sip amazed at Salem’s secret knowledge. He raised his glass as the doors slammed closed and sent a toast back.

           “To Tolstoy and Elliot Salem’s secret literary acumen.”

           Then he headed off to change; hoping that at some point the younger man had also acquired a boat load of secret, gambling acumen.

 

           

 


	3. THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And More Vegas

**_  
_ **

**__ **

**__ **

**_ That Dog Don’t Hunt _ **

__

_ Part Three _

_ Las Vegas _

__

          

**_WARNINGS: SEX, M/F, EXPLORITORY TENTATIVE INCONCLUSIVE M/M_ **

**_That Dog Don't Hunt_ **

_Part Three_

_Las Vegas_

       "No."

       "It's Vegas Elliot, we gamble your money away at Craps and gamble our lives away on the rides for me. Here, have some cotton candy. It's sticky. Locks your fingers onto the hand rail."

       "No."

       "We jump out of helicopters, into gunfire."

       "No."

       "Dude, is that true?" the guy in line, in front of them asked. "Like wow, no shit, you guys like jump from choppers, with guys shooting and he's afraid to ride, X-Scream. That's weak bro."

       "Listen to the man, Salem."

       "No."

      "The lines moving shift up."

       Rios shoved Elliot forward. They'd spent the last couple of days seeing the regular sights; drinking, losing Elliot's money and enjoying themselves but Rios, wanted to ride the Stratosphere Hotel rides and Elliot wasn't having it, especially on his birthday.

       "It's safe, look. There's women on it, Ellie."

       "Big dude, did you like just call him, Ellie? That's like a girly name, man, Ellie. Maybe he's," he leaned toward Rios' ear and tried to whisper, "you know, just little… hm, hm hm, and that's why he's scared."

       Normally Rios would told the kid to fuck off but seeing Elliot so out of sorts and the fact the kid was razing him for it, oblivious to Salem's potential wrath, made the whole scenario precious.

       "All these years we trust each other and now, all I ask is to ride one teeny- weenie little roller coaster. What happened to trusting your brother, hunh, Salem?"

       "No."

       "Dude, you trust _him_ to watch your back, fuck an a man."

       That hit home and Salem turned to the long haired heckler.

       "Elliot, don't or I will throw you off this roof myself. We are riding the ride."

       "No."

       "Move up."

       Ten minutes later a pimple faced, ride attendant strapped them into the front seat of the car. As soon as the kid moved on, Elliot snagged the flask of Scotch from his back pocket and downed a frighteningly large gulp of the spirits.

       "Just relax, man. I'm sure he's at least, what fourteen. That's More than old enough to be responsible enough to check your seat belt, on a ride 900 feet up. Oh Salem, come on, would I ever do anything to put you in danger?'

       Before the man could respond the ride tipped rapidly forward. All Elliot could see was the city below rushing up at him, and all he could hear was Rios' raucous laughter.

       Later that night, the special birthday night, Salem stepped out of his suite in a beautifully fitted charcoal colored tuxedo. Rios stood and crossed to him. Elliot had been reticent about the fancy dinner and show, followed by a night of gambling in a very posh hall but Rios reassured him that it would all be ok.

        "Damn it man, look at you, you're fucking… just well, if I was a chick, I'd do you."

      Salem flushed at the compliment and let Rios adjust his bow tie. He felt good. He'd expected to feel ridiculous in the stodgy suit, but the suave outfit gave him confidence and he'd drunk just enough, that flashing that newly found clout would be easy.

       "Feels good, Tyse. Better than an ass full a shit from riding roller coasters."

       Rios laughed, his baritone deep chested rumble making Elliot smile, once again.

       "You did ok. You didn't shit your pants, Elliot. Ready, our reservations at nine."

       Elliot did fine once again. They ate, watched the show and Salem hit the Craps tables in full swing. He played, won and continued to win. If the gambling god could grant a birthday wish, he'd granted Salem's ten- fold. The man won over and reveling in the moment. Rios kept the drinks coming and the women, all beautiful clung to Elliot's elbow as the chips steadily fell his way.

       By two a.m. they headed up to the room, each with a woman on their arm. Rios had been hesitant. He worried that it amounted to cheating on Samantha but Elliot and far too much alcohol had convinced otherwise. Once in the room the party was on.

       Rios hadn't had a woman, aside from Samantha in years and Elliot was excited that his friend had finally taken that step. Despite his earlier hesitation Rios practically stripped the gorgeous blond, two steps inside the door. Salem wasn't far behind him. The foursome ended up on Salem's bed entwined in a mass of groping limbs.

       Neither man, in all the years they'd been together, had fucked in front of the other. They knew it happened had been in situations where it happened but never with one another.

       Rios, tried to focus on his girl, tried to block out Elliot fucking the pert brunette he'd seduced, just feet away on the big bed but it was impossible. The man was naked, driving into her and with a surreal, heightened sense of vision, Rios watched beads of sweat trickle slowly down Salem's arched spine, halting at the ridge of his tensed hard buttocks. He watched Salem's biceps rippling and flexing, the lines of his tattoos dancing in the rooms soft light, as he pressed in and out of her. Rios ' focus shifted to Elliot's face and he watched the man's teeth clench and jaw muscles tighten as his release neared. Then she gasped Salem's name, just as Rios plunged into his date, just at the moment when Elliot came. The look on Salem's face was an odd mix of grief and extreme pleasure. A window letting Rios see and share a part of Salem he'd not known before. A brutal nakedness of the soul that rippled through his body, electrically, driving him into orgasm as well. It wouldn't be until much later, on retrospect, that Tyson realized they'd both come together.

       The group tossed about for a bit; switching women and drinking, sharing; Tyson felt comfortable but wary that that comfort was born of drunkenness. Salem, conversely, relished in the debauchery. He kissed and fondled one then the other woman, not bothered that Rios watched. Finally, Rios' girl corralled him, lay on her back and drew him down. She guided him into herself hungrily for a second round and he obliged, losing track of Salem.

       Rios drove into her. It had been a long time since he'd truly enjoyed sex and this woman this stranger was reawakening parts of him he'd long forsaken. He came and she rolled away, leaving him reeling on his knees in the center of the bed. Then, to his shock she knelt in front of him hungry for more. He laughed aloud and drew her into a deep kiss, cursing his drunken, poor judgment but loving where it had led him.

       He was kissing her and kneading her ass when the mattress shifted behind him. He shuddered when a light touch trailed down his spine sending goose bumps skittering in its wake. The woman pulled away and smiled an odd smile but before Rios could define it, warm, moist lips kissed him between his shoulder blades. He stilled. The lips shifted planting firm yet teasing kisses across his shoulders then up just below his ears and on his neck. The woman's eyes never left his. They were a mirror, a reflection of what was occurring behind him.

       Rios fought down panic when the brush of Salem's moustach and stubble betrayed him. Rios shuddered frightened that he'd enjoyed Salem's touch on his hyper sensitive skin. Then the coarseness of his calloused palms raked Tyson's stomach, over his hips slipping lower, as Salem explored further.

       The woman leaned in and kissed Tyson deeply. Then pulled away, touched his scarred cheek and whispered into his ear.

       "He loves you, be careful, don't hurt him. Enjoy."

       Rios gasped and reached for her, but she slithered away and stretched out on the edge of the bed silently watching.

       When Salem's hand slid round his cock, Rios froze. He turned, facing Elliot still on his knees. Salem was flushed with desire and drink. He smiled his smile of childish impishness. Then reaching out he took   Tyson's face between his hands. He leaned in and delicately kissed the scars on Rios' cheek, ear and lingered just beside his mouth. Rios didn't pull away. He was confused and feared hurting him, feared wanting him. It was Salem's holiday and he'd sworn that nothing would ruin that but this…this was crossing a line. Then Elliot placed his lips softly upon Tyson's and for the briefest moment became stone still. He breathed deeply, brushed his hand back across Tyson's bald head, behind his thick neck then pulling Tyson forward slid his tongue between the man's twitching lips and sucked hungrily at his tongue.

       Rios allowed the kiss. He danced for a bit with Salem's probing tongue. Returned the dueling figure eights Salem was twirling and allowed the younger man his moment. They'd shared everything else in life, so Tyson thought, if only for a moment, for this one night, why not this? Then Salem broke the kiss and dropped toward Rios' cock, his strong rough hands sliding down his back, setting his skin on fire. Rios' resolve, despite the pleasure coursing down his spine, failed him. Taking Elliot's face firmly between his huge paws he pulled him gently upwards. He met Salem's hazel eyes and smiled he hoped, a sad smile, an apologetic smile.

       "Enough Ellie, I love you. I always have and will, but that's all, _all_ of _this_ that I can give you."

       Salem sighed and settled back his, buttocks on his calves, seeming suddenly very small and Tyson followed suit. Then Elliot smiled. It was a sad smile of joy, mixed with resignation, peppered with a hint of  having finally crossed a bridge that had been terrifying. Then it broadened into the smile Tyson had seen on so few occasions. It was Salem's smile of utter contentment.

       He licked his lips, tasting Rios there, reached out and ran his thumb across the older man's scarred ones, and leaning forward placed a lingering, impossibly gentle kiss on Tyson's forehead before resting his there.

       "Then I guess, that will have to be enough."

       Tyson awoke around nine in the morning, confused, cold and more hung over than he'd been in a long while. Thankfully, both women, just as he'd expected, had left. He pissed, threw water on his face and shuffled back into the suite. Elliot lay sprawled out on his stomach taking up the center of the huge bed, wrapped up in most all of the blankets. Rios smiled at the sight. He went over and studied the man, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Rios intimately knew Elliot's respiratory patterns. He needed to for their work. A breath or heartbeat off and the shot would miss its mark. Reaching out he brushed his big hand back through Elliot's tangled hair, then tucked the covers up round his shoulders a bit tighter.

       "Happy birthday, Ellie, happy birthday."

       Two days later, after Salem convinced him to rent a car and drive home, Rios gunned the engine on the convertible Mustang, merged onto the wide open highway and ran the Cobra up to ninety miles per     hour.

       "Ok, now we can listen to the radio." Salem declared joyfully.

       "Put in something I like too, that was the deal, Elliot."

       "I will bro, it's in my bag."

       He leaned over into the back seat, and Rios grabbed his belt afraid he'd fly out of the car. Salem dug around his duffle then plopped back in his seat.

       "Here we go Tyse, the first lesson in _your_ vocabulary classes."

       Rios looked over confused. "What the fuck are you… oh no fuckin' way Elliot! No!"

       Salem held a box of CD's. It was the audio version of _War and Peace._

       "Remember that X-Scream ride, Tubby; well payback's a son of a bitch."

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
